I can't stop drawing her
Though the ink stutters from my pen
Are no form of the lines of her face
She humbly takes them anyway.
She has no place in my eyes
But for the gentle push of her petal hands
On my page, while I sit and
Let my mind take the toll.
The still morning is pulled in
Or the night claiming the light
But I am still here
Drawing her,
Her poise
Her smile
Her attentive eyes
And the knowing, the truth
It's with her every time.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
I can't stop drawing her
Though the ink stutters from my pen
Are no form of the lines of her face
She humbly takes them anyway.
She has no place in my eyes
But for the gentle push of her petal hands
On my page, while I sit and
Let my mind take the toll.
The still morning is pulled in
Or the night claiming the light
But I am still here
Drawing her,
Her poise
Her smile
Her attentive eyes
And the knowing, the truth
It's with her every time.
